


Good Morning, Sunshine! (Apple and Pancake mix)

by Arabwel



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Hale Family, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, And there is pancakes, F/M, Family, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Talia wants grandkids
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-21
Updated: 2015-06-21
Packaged: 2018-04-05 09:18:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4174425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arabwel/pseuds/Arabwel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The boy—okay, young man, he was old enough to drink… in Canada—still looked half asleep when Laura dragged him down the stairs, clad only in Batman boxers and one of Derek’s t-shirts. All that pale skin on display, well, it gave a man ideas. </p><p>Until the man’s mate elbowed him in the side, that is, smiling fondly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good Morning, Sunshine! (Apple and Pancake mix)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sensalito](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sensalito/gifts).
  * Inspired by ["Good Morning, Sunshine!"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/458831) by [sensalito](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sensalito/pseuds/sensalito). 



> Here's a big heaping pile of fluff for you! I hope you enjoy it! 
> 
> big thanks to my beta, [redacted]

The boy—okay, young man, he was old enough to drink… in Canada—still looked half asleep when Laura dragged him down the stairs, clad only in Batman boxers and one of Derek’s t-shirts. All that pale skin on display, well, it gave a man ideas. 

Until the man’s mate elbowed him in the side, that is, smiling fondly. “Behave,” Alyssa murmured before she greeted Stiles. 

Peter smiled softly at her. She knew exactly what he’d been thinking even as Talia cooed over Stiles’ messy hair. Really, the way Talia carried on was almost unbecoming of an Alpha, if not for the fact that the boy was still human—and most likely would stay that way. (That, and how they all tended to dote on humans. He remembered the days before Alyssa took the bite well.) 

It didn’t surprise him that Stiles would end up in Derek’s lap, curled up against his nephew’s broad chest. The scent of contentment and happiness emanating from them was positively _sickening_ , really, mixing with the scents of pack and pancakes in the making. Newly mated and so much in love, still finding how Stiles fit into the pack. 

“Good night?” He smirked as Stiles blushed, the embarrassment mixed with arousal positively wafting from him. They were perfectly aware of just good the night had been, the new couple keeping their elders up late. Shocking, really. 

This time Alyssa didn’t bother elbowing him—she’d rolled up her newspaper to smack him on the head with it. Peter turned to growl at her playfully, watching her dark eyes sparkle mischievously even as his brother in law chided him to behave, else there’d be no pancakes. 

_I know what you are thinking_ , she mouthed the words, and oh, Peter knew she did. She’d been the one to egg him on last night, wrap her silky legs around his hips and remind him of just how it had been for them in the early days. (Still was. They might not have been newly mated any more, but Peter absolutely refused to think of himself as _old_ or _settled_. Even if they no longer shared a seat most mornings, leaving Alyssa with her newspaper and Peter with his tablet.)

Stiles made a noise, and Peter’s attention was diverted again; really, the boys had no decorum but he could very well understand why Derek wouldn’t let Stiles out of his lap. Beside him, Alyssa smiled, her bare foot nudging against his under the table. 

He couldn’t fault Derek for all the preening, showing off his pretty little mate. Both of them practically purring as Derek started to nibble on Stiles throat, murmuring sweet nothings. But judging by how hands were disappearing under table level, well, this was Sunday breakfast—not that kind of a party. 

Peter’s wolf-whistle—ha!—was interrupted by an apple expertly lobbed at him by Talia. 

“Hey!” 

Beside him, Alyssa snickered and patted his arm. She’d caught the apple as it bounced off his head, a juicy green one, and even as he mock-glared at her, she bit into it with her pearly white teeth. 

Peter looked at his sister who was still busying herself with plating the pancakes. “That hurt, Talia.” 

“Good,” she said in that smug big sister tone of hers. “It was supposed to.” 

Peter did not dignify her with an answer despite the sniggering around the table, silently grateful to his mate for not joining in, for softly nudging his knee under the table. 

Talia slid the plate of pancakes on the table before she turned her attention to Derek and Stiles. “Now, I wanted to ask…”

Mike went _uh-oh_ and Peter took great pleasure in the way a second apple was flicked from the bowl to hit his brother in law square in the face, crumpling his newspaper in the process. 

Peter didn’t roll his eyes even though he knew exactly what Talia was going to ask. He witnessed the conversation between his sister, his niece, and his niece’s beleaguered mate when the subject came up. Laura was adamant that she wanted to finish her degree and for Nick to have completed his residency before they had children; that gave her another two years, if she didn’t dawdle, before the subject would truly come up. Perhaps Laura would be content with just nieces and nephews to dote on… but Peter did understand, oh _how_ did he understand, the need for an Alpha in her prime to see her pack grow. Planning to give the Bite to Stiles’ asthmatic little friend was not enough.

Carefully pushing the thoughts aside, Peter gave Derek and Stiles his full attention. Stiles was blushing, the sickly scent of embarrassment in the air. Derek's grip of him had tightened instinctively, his brow furrowing like he knew exactly what to expect. 

"I was saying, I wanted to ask if maybe you had thought about how _old_ I am,” Talia raised an eyebrow, both hands on her hips in a position more at home in the boardroom than a kitchen, but that was Alphas for you. “I’m turning _fifty-three_ this year, and while I have no wish to pressure you—”

Peter’s snort was quickly met with another thwack of Alyssa’s newspaper. 

Talia was still going, undaunted, looking at Stiles with every bit of Alpha command in her eyes despite the fact that they were not sparking red. “But you know, I would greatly enjoy watching my grandbabies grow up.” 

Stiles looked like a deer caught in the headlights, his lips moving but no words came out. 

“Why don’t you ask Laura?” Derek actually used words, and not his eyebrows. Peter was impressed. 

“I have, now I am asking you.” 

“But she’s older than me.” Derek’s tone was plaintive and Peter wished for popcorn. Oh, this was just priceless, and from the little noise Alyssa made, she agreed. 

A pancake would have to do. With everyone else’s attention on Talia, Peter deftly snagged two pancakes and slid them on their plate, his mate already pouring the syrup. 

“Derek Matthew Hale.” Talia was using the full name ultimatum; Peter grinned and popped a piece of syrup-drenched pancake in his mouth. 

“You will stop trying to redirect my attention to your sister. I know how she feels, now I want to hear about you and Stiles.”

Stiles’ heart rate spiked up at her words; Derek’s eyebrows scrunched down. His tone was weary when he spoke, “It’s not that I don’t want kids, Mom.”

Derek paused briefly, to gather his thoughts. Peter could tell Stiles was relieved, from the change in his scent and the way the tension leached from his slim shoulders, relaxing under Derek’s ratty shirt. 

“But Stiles isn’t ready yet. He’s too young.” With Derek’s words, Stiles tensed again—really the boy was so expressive he might as well have used semaphore to convey his agitation—but, Derek _did_ have a valid point. 

Derek looked at Stiles and ugh, if werewolves could get diabetes, Peter was certain he’d be in a coma right now from the sugary sweetness rolling off them in waves. “We’re still in a honeymoon phase, and we like it that way.” 

“I think someone is freaking out,” Laura sing-songed gleefully. Peter glanced at his niece and then back at Stiles, who lifted his head to glare at the alpha-to-be. Ah yes, there was the viciousness Peter greatly appreciated. 

“Oh god, you got that look on your face. Should I be scared?” Laura raised an eyebrow but her expression had a tinge of worry. 

“Yes!” Everyone else seated at the table chorused gleefully, even Nick.

Talia sighed. “Fine, but don’t wait too long, okay? I want to spend plenty of time with your pups, boys. _Plenty._ ”. 

In other words, groom them in the Talia Hale school of pack management. Peter rolled his eyes and stole another pancake. 

*****

Much later, when the pack had gone their separate ways, Peter found himself in the garden with his mate. The early summer breeze carried the scent of the forest and cooled the heat of the sun as they curled up in the swing under the wisteria. He’d brought out a book for them to read, but even that seemed too much effort; he’d much rather just curl into his mate, breathe in the familiar scent of juniper and October mornings. 

From inside the house, the sound of Laura shrieking in surprise and then in anger could be heard loud and clear even without werewolf hearing. 

“What do you think Stiles did?” Alyssa murmured lazily. 

“I am thinking... itching powder. That’s suitably juvenile proof for Talia that Stiles should not breed any time soon.” 

Alyssa smiled, her voice soft as she spoke. “Do you think your sister would cease to torment the poor boy if she had a niece or nephew to dote on?” 

Peter’s breath caught in his throat. That little something he’d noticed in her scent— “Alyssa...?” 

Gently, she took hold of his hand and placed it on her belly. “You’re gonna be a daddy, Peter.”


End file.
